


Reborn

by Dreamystory



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Other, Sad, just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25005952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamystory/pseuds/Dreamystory
Summary: How Iorek Akesson had a second chance at life
Relationships: Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), None
Kudos: 1





	Reborn

breathe, breathe. Or at least try it. This was all that Iorek had heard before quickly sinking into the sleep of death after suffering for weeks under the weight of the red plague that had consumed all his strength reducing him to the shadow of the proud man he had once been. Of the son of the village chief of the Egrets islands ... of Iorek Akesson, only the name remained, a name that had flown away with his last breath in the rescuing arms of his colleague, Julian Devorak. The last thing he felt was his trembling hands, the last thing he saw the wooden ceiling before his body stopped working and he sank into oblivion between his friend's sobs.  
Asra had known that early in the morning and it had been horrible, especially seeing Muriel's face in telling the story of his apprentice's departure ... He had closed the shop for the day, but not to process the pain. He felt no pain. In his heart there was only a powerful sense of determination that became stronger and stronger as he began to rummage among the things Iorek had left in the hurry of their last fight in the shop ... including a pendant. That pendant that he had always carried with him since he met Asra and moved to Vesuvia ... the tears soon came in those purple eyes so peaceful, flooded with an abnormal pain. Asra crouched on the ground, his knees against his torax praying, hoping to wake up from the nightmare that had destroyed his heart, he had torn it from his chest and jumped on it leaving the remains to rot on the floor until it became part of it ... Asra regretted everything. He regretted being there to cry, but most of all he regretted their last quarrel. The last time they had talked there was a quarrel, and perhaps it was the sense of guilt that moved his bowels with an anomalous sadness and bitterness. The horrible things they said ... if he tried to make that hot head think, maybe now he would still be alive.  
He sank his hands into his face, cursing himself. Invoking the arcana in search of help, invoking whatever entity was willing to listen to him ... anyone who wanted to offer a hand to a poor wizard with a broken heart.  
nobody came, the door did not open and in desperation Asra fell asleep. Restless sleep, similar to fainting. Yet he slept, rested and dreamed of the alternative world dominated by the arcana. A world where there is no suffering ... maybe a part of his mind hoped that after death Iorek had been there waiting for Asra and reassuring him about what to do, about telling him that he had to go on ... but that was the point. He would not have been able to move forward with the awareness of the death of a friend on conscience. Iorek, with his frank hardness, his protective way of doing and his warm brown eyes, was gone. He was gone, he had died killed by that terrible plague he had tried to stop. Just like Asra had tried to stop him ... a natural force that was going to fight against a natural disaster. And his willpower hadn't been enough. Life had been taken away from him along with that of many others ... and the lazaret, a hot place of cremation ashes, would have been their final resting place. An island far from God and men, at the edge of the Vesuvian sea and its brilliant and crystalline waves, a red atmosphere around it and ashes of what had been people scattered everywhere. Where the ashes of a brave man would have settled.The world in which the dream took place was a world he had associated with Iorek when he had first seen him and had identified his arcane correspondent. The Fool.  
And a towering white figure with two coppery horns grumbled "weep not, child." was what he said as soon as Asra ran his gaze on him with amazement that never left his eyes "what your heart craves, you can bring him back with you." The snow reached his knee when he got up, and even from his feet he could not reach the height of the upper entity. The Fool had the appearance of a reindeer, a large muzzle and two huge nostrils to compensate for the size of it, a stern look sat in his dark eyes and supported himself with a stick: the only garment he wore was an anorak. "I do not understand..."  
"blessed son, I have already explained it to you." replied the major arcane with a thud of the stick on the fresh snow "You can bring Iorek Akesson back to life by giving him half of your heart." Asra had already heard of this type of deal, but had never experienced it. Yet the possibility of getting Iorek back with him seemed so tangible .... "and will he live?"  
a hoof in front of his mouth stopped everything "but" said Il Fool "I want to give a gift to your friend. When he wakes up from this sleep he will have no memory of his own, alas, tragic departure. Therefore in my grace I decide to give him a gift if shall ever want to reconnect to his land, to his origins one day. Therefore Iorek Akesson will have the ability to create and manipulate ice and snow. But he will have to learn to control them, or they will have the best. I am counting on you to help him, Asra. "  
"on my honor."  
"very well, then." the other replied "a pact, therefore. A life for half of your heart, Asra Alnazar."  
•••  
He slept. He saw his friend's chest rise and fall with a frequency he had missed, his face was starting to take on color after the cadaveric white of death that had kept him imprisoned ... although Iorek's cold fingers were unable to twist for now around those of Asra, it was enough for the magician to see him alive ... he was there. With him. In a body, with a soul and half of Asra's heart in himself ... but that Iorek shouldn't have known. Never.  
The only real difference in him was his hair ... with that gift they had gone from being brown to being blonde. A snow-like ivory blonde, beautiful ... yet so significant that Iorek Akesson had been the only lucky one to have seen death, but still had a second chance.  
But this, he shouldn't have known.


End file.
